


I'll rewrite lines without changing the song

by savvyliterate



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 16:34:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvyliterate/pseuds/savvyliterate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You can’t go through history correcting all my mistakes, River."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll rewrite lines without changing the song

**Author's Note:**

> This is my head canon, and I'm sticking to it. Mainly because I felt that Ten was an ass to Harriet Jones.

She drew herself to her full height and faced the Daleks. No matter what had happened in the past few years, Harriet Jones had no regrets. She would repeat everything she’d done as long as the Earth was safe, even if the Doctor disagreed with her methods.

She waited for her life to flash before her eyes and wondered if there really were cheeseburgers in paradise.

Instead, something else flashed in front of her, and all she could see was a massive mane of curly blonde hair.

“Rose?” Harriet breathed.

“Not hardly,” the woman replied in a husky voice. She aimed two blasters at the Daleks. “Hello, boys.”

“What is this?” The Dalek in the middle sputtered.

“Explain!” The Dalek on the left demanded.

“Who are you?” Harriet asked.

“Doctor River Song, archaeologist," the woman replied.

Harriet warily peered around to take a closer look at the woman. She looked to be a good decade of two younger than herself and was dressed in a dark blue tunic and brown leggings. A wide leather belt held several pouches, a gun holster and a flashlight. “Are archaeologists all armed like that?”

River tossed her a grin. "It's a Tuesday.” She strode to the Daleks, not flinching when they took aim at her. “Given the blessed lack of silence on your part, you must be busy looking me up. Don’t worry, I’ll save you the bother.” She dropped a cylinder into one Dalek’s eyestalk, aimed a laser blast up the other one’s stalk and leaned in very close to the third.

“I’ve a message for you boys. Go after her again, and I won’t let you off this easy. Now, I best be off. Once that bomb I dropped down the eyestalk of your friend there explodes, it’ll be ever so hard to get the mess out of the carpet.” She scooted back and grabbed Harriet’s arm with one hand and snatched an object off the table with the other. She activated a wrist unit just as the bomb went off and the remaining Dalek yelled, “Exterminate!”

They landed on a sunny hill in an area Harriet didn’t recognize. Children played on a swing nearby, and there were no Daleks. Harriet slowly turned in a circle and wondered if there was no end to the discoveries she would have in her suddenly lengthened life. “Where are we?” she asked River.

“Massachusetts. United States. Oh, and it’s August 2009, well after the Dalek attack, ma’am.” River pressed the object she grabbed off the table into Harriet’s hand, and she looked down to see it was her identification. Harriet Jones. Former prime minister.

“I’m supposed to be dead,” Harriet informed River as she held the ID close.

“Yes, I’m quite aware of that.”

“So, why did you save me? My death served a purpose.”

“Because, I didn’t agree.” River dipped into one of the pouches on her belt and pulled out a thick packet of papers. Harriet eyed them and wondered just how deep they were. “My old man has rewritten time enough when it comes to you. Had you still been prime minister, none of that would have ever happened. Your death did not serve any purpose other than to make things worse for a lot of people. Ma’am, the Doctor is an amazing man. He is also a bleeding idiot.”

Harriet grinned. “I like you.”

“And I like you too.” River pressed the packet into Harriet’s hands. “Here. These are identification papers and details on accessing a bank account that will keep you comfortable for the rest of your life. I’m sorry, I can’t take you back home. You’re presumed dead in the attack, and for all intents and purposes, it should remain that way. You’re still going to do great things, Harriet Jones.”

Harriet’s hands closed around the packet. “I’ve already done them, Dr. Song.”

“So you have. But, I promise, you'll do even more.” River smiled and activated her wrist unit.

The walls of Stormcage snapped into place around her, and she stretched. Oh, maybe there’d been time for a quick bite to eat in Brussels, but it was about time for her scheduled hazing of the new guards. They were so young. Bless. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear, turned and nearly tripped over the Doctor. He was sitting on her cot, arms across his chest, and he scowled at her.

“You’ve been rewriting history,” he snapped.

“It’s a Tuesday,” River said breezily.

The Doctor pushed to his feet. “This isn’t ‘Time Rewrite Tuesday!’”

“It’s not? I do believe I need to double check my calendar then.” She turned away from him to open her diary, but didn’t matter at that point where they were in their respective timelines. Apparently far enough ahead to where this argument needed to happen.

_“River!”_

River pinned her husband with a steely glare. “Since you vetoed my heist-a-week plans and I’ve earned 26 doctorates, 47 masters and countless bachelor degrees, I had to do something productive with my time. A girl gets bored after being locked up for 14 years.”

“That doesn’t give you free reign to go about and change time like that! You know better!” The Doctor waved his hands about and knocked a priceless antique perfume bottle off her bookcase. It crashed at his feet, spraying glass and scent everywhere. “Harriet Jones died that day. That’s a fixed event!”

“No, it’s not!” River pressed her face into his until their lips were nearly touching. “You only think she died that day. Davros and Rose made you believe it, because they believed it themselves. However, strange thing about Harriet Jones’ death. It wasn’t a fixed event. Only the attack by the Daleks was. I began putting the pieces together when doing an American history course when I saw evidence of her being politically active in the U.S. a decade after she supposedly died. It doesn’t take both of our brilliant brains to realize she was saved at the last second. Since Jack was with you, and you’re too bull-headed to do the right thing, that left me. God, you are so much work in your old age." 

River spun away from him and rooted through a box on her shelf. She pulled out a large bottle of liquid starch. Now, if you will pardon me, I have to go pour this in the guard room’s wash.”

“River!” More exasperated now, the Doctor blocked her exit. “River, I’m sorry.”

“Are you honestly sorry with me or are you sorry I made you look like a fool?”

He didn’t say anything for a long while. Finally, he stared at the ground, shoulders hunched, and sighed. The anger dissipated. She never could stay mad at him when he looked so damn lost in moments like this. “Oh, my love,” she said and saw his shoulders relax at the endearment. “You told me how much you regretted changing things when you first regenerated all those years ago. You rewrote time, because she did the right thing. Because, to quote you, ‘my tenth self was a cocky bastard.’” She adjusted his bow tie. “Well, your eleventh self can be one as well.”

He huffed a bit but stepped into her, wrapping his arms around her. “You can’t go through history correcting all my mistakes, River,” he murmured and nuzzled her cheek.

“Oh, but what am I going to do on Tuesdays now?” River sighed.

“You could come with me.” He pressed his lips to the nape of her neck

“I suppose, just for a little while. But, first, I really need to visit the laundry.”

“River …”

She smiled and held up the starch. “I’ll let you help.”

He rolled his eyes.

The Stormcage guards’ underwear was so stiff that they walked around like they had something wedged into their trousers for a week.

Harriet Jones lived to a very old age, dying of natural causes in her new home of Boston. She brought around great reforms in the U.S. government and helped launch a revolutionary system of health care that would be a model for decades to come.

And that, River thought with a great deal of satisfaction, was how Harriet’s story really ended.


End file.
